Page 52 of A Scottish Christmas Hideaway
‘Are you okay, sis?’ said Murray. ‘You seem miles away.’
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’ She pulled her thoughts away from Reuben and looked at her brother. She wondered what he would think if he knew she was thinking of his best friend in that way.
‘You were about to tell me about Tim,’ he said gently.
‘Yes,’ she said, inwardly groaning. ‘By the way, I haven’t told Mum any of this about him being married.’
‘How come? I don’t think she would be bothered.’
‘I just felt as though I’d offloaded enough and really what difference would it make? I can’t change any of it. I just need to try and move on.’
‘Go on then,’ he said, nodding his thanks to the waitress, who had just set down their coffees and fruit scones.
Jessica looked at her brother. ‘Two months after he died, I had to fly back to New York on client business. I had tried to put it off for as long as possible but there was no way I could avoid it unless I wanted to draw attention to the reason I didn’t want to return. Nobody really knew the details of what had happened,you see.’ She remembered how glad she was that Freda was also flying out with her, how Freda had noticed she was quiet. That was when she told her about Tim. ‘I know this is hard for you,’ she had said. ‘But we are here to work and it will all be done and dusted soon and then we will be back in London.’ She remembered how grateful she was for Freda’s moral support. Somehow it felt easier to have a colleague there with her rather than be completely on her own. Especially at night when they were back in the hotel.
Murray waited for her to continue.
‘At the first meeting, one of the clients was being quite offhand and rude to me and I couldn’t work out what was going on. Had I done something wrong? Had I messed up somewhere? Which was possible as I had been so sad and tired. Anyway, it left me feeling totally flustered and I started to second-guess myself.’
Murray opened the pat of butter and started to spread it on the scone. ‘Just what you needed,’ he said sympathetically.
‘Turns out that she was Tim’s wife.’
‘No!’ gasped Murray, clearly shocked. He placed the knife down with a clatter. ‘And did she know whoyouwere?’
Her lips were pressed tightly together as she nodded. ‘She did.’
‘What happened next? Did she confront you?’
‘Yes, later on, after the meeting, she asked if she could have a quick word. She was actually apologetic for being horrible in the meeting. And said she had been under a lot of stress as she had recently lost her husband. The penny still didn’t drop . . . then she announced she was Tim’s wife. She said she had worked out who I was from the messages on Tim’s phone and couldn’t believe that we both worked for the same company. She worked for the Boston firm. This was her way of letting me know she knew all about me and that she was the grieving widow.’
‘And were they still together when he died?’
Jessica’s gaze fell on the window as she remembered the sense of helplessness she felt when Dana had told her they were still together and that she’d thought that they were happily married. ‘I felt awful. I would never ever have become involved if I’d known. I never ever wanted to be the other woman.’
Murray puffed his cheeks out and sighed. ‘I guess there are always two sides to every story.’
‘And I will never know the truth,’ she said, breaking a piece of scone and popping it into her mouth. It made her realise that everything she and Tim had shared was a lie. How could she possibly mourn the death of a man who wasn’t hers to love in the first place?
‘You didn’t suspect a thing about him being married then?’ said Murray. He pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
‘Not at all. Though now when I think about it, perhaps the signs had always been there that we didn’t have a future together. He was always quite vague about his whereabouts and when he would next be in town. But I just thought that was because he was so busy with work. And I missed him. I missed what I thought we had. Then I reminded myself it was all a lie. It’s really made me doubt my ability to trust anyone again.’
‘No wonder,’ said Murray. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine the shock.’
‘Anyway, his wife has spent much of the past year texting and asking for details of what happened. I know she’s hurting and wants closure. Initially, I did try to help, but it’s too much. It all came to a head the other night when I was at the inn and I called her to tell her to stop. I just want her to leave me alone and she wasn’t getting the message.’ Jessica hoped that after their conversation the other night shewouldmove on. She felt sorry for her and she wished things were different. But therewas nothing else to say. There was no going back. They had both loved Tim in different ways and she knew that hers was a passionate type of love that may not have lasted. But for a while it had consumed her. But now Tim was gone, they both had to move on with their lives. ‘Thanks for listening, bruv. It’s actually really helped.’
Murray hesitated for a moment before speaking. ‘You weren’t to know this would happen.’ He clenched his jaw and Jessica knew he was angry but was trying his best to refrain from saying what he really wanted to. ‘Can I make a suggestion?’
‘Sure. Of course you can.’
‘You aren’t that person, Jessica. You didn’t know he was married. It’s not your fault so don’t let it define you. Move on with your life and find someone who deserves you.’ He paused before giving her a sly smile. ‘Like Reuben?’
She tried to casually sip her coffee and not react. Reuben aside, Jessica knew his words about Tim made sense, and as she let his advice sink in, she felt a sense of stillness and lightness move through her. Murray was right. She needed to let Tim go and move on.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Reuben sat perched on a stool at the breakfast bar in the kitchen of his flat. For the past hour or so he had been scrolling through various holiday sites and had now lost track of where he wanted to go. He had about fifteen different tabs open on his laptop after clicking on various resorts in the Canary Islands which had looked okay in the pictures. When he glanced out the window, all he could see was a thick bank of dense grey cloud and stark, bare trees. Staring at pictures of bright blue skies, sandy beaches, lush palm trees and magenta flowers was far preferable. But then when he had opened up reviews on Tripadvisor to get the realistic detail of the places he was looking at, he had quickly become overwhelmed and forgotten whether it was Lanzarote that held most appeal or Gran Canaria. He closed the lid of his computer and stretched his hands above his head. The reality was that he still wasn’t quite sure what to do. There were only three days until Christmas. He had to make a decision soon. Because if he was going, he would need to fly out either tomorrow or Christmas Eve. And he had to go and see his dad and let Catriona know what his plans were. He already felt bad that he hadn’t yet told her if he would be there or not, even though she said to leave it until the last minute.
